


Children of Kaine: Prologue 4

by KPenDragon



Series: Children of Kaine Saga [4]
Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Cannon Divergence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mpreg, Other, Teenage Pregnancy, intersex clone, pheromone induced heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KPenDragon/pseuds/KPenDragon
Summary: Today was the day. It was May's birthday. It was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s final day. It was the day his whole life was going to change. The only question now was if Scarlet Spider was going to survive the day or not.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This whole part is a wraparound for _The New Sinister Six_ , so it does jump around more than the other parts, since this is meant to be spliced before, during, and after the episode. This was originally intended as the end of the “Prologue”, but I might do up a quick filler bit pertaining to the _Symbiote Saga_ , haven’t quite decided upon that yet…

Today was Aunt May’s birthday, and all of her little adopted teenagers had been planning something for weeks (of course she knew they were planning, she was Aunt May, not much got past her, but she didn’t go snooping). The plan was, that Peter and Amadeus went to S.H.I.E.L.D. as usual, while Ben and Miles went into the city to go grab a few last minute things, which left Flash at home to keep May busy and out of the way.

Public transportation was not their friend. The train car was cramped with commuters heading to work, and tourists who were already getting a head start on being lost. 

“Oh let’s take the train, it’ll be a nice change of pace, yeah right,” Miles mumbled as he got yet another elbow dug into his back; the dirty look he shot his companion went unnoticed.

Ben was far too focused on his phone, trying to concentrate on it rather than the nauseous feeling that was starting to threaten thanks to the rocking motions of the train car and the strange unexplainable scent of bananas he was getting. He was flipping through his calendars, trying to count weeks. After his most recent encounter with Flash after meeting that Jones girl, he was starting to worry that this new living situation had thrown his cycle off, his whole metabolism off actually. Between the blonde’s reactions to him, his lack of webbing, coupled with random bouts of nausea and lately night sweats, he was just really hoping that there wasn’t something going on he had to worry about. His count though felt off, so he went back and double checked it, flipping back the weeks, months. 

His last heat period had been when Flash…had gotten hurt; following that he’d gotten his period as usual, despite it being light (but he had been eating poorly and busy crime fighting and training, so that made sense). But that had been over six weeks ago, nearly seven weeks actually. His heat had never come late, it’d been early once or twice (by a week at the most), but late? Maybe the stress was making him late? Maybe because he’d…“mated” with the symbiote, it altered his body chemistry some how? Was Flash’s latest reaction the only reaction he’d get to his heat from now on?

He was doing a very good job at not panicking outwardly at this as he flipped through to count again, trying to find some error that would magically appear. He had to stay calm, he had to stay focused. There had to be a reasonable explanation here that he could find on his own, that he wouldn’t have to go to Ock to figure out, because the only solution that he could fathom was happening he just wouldn’t accept…

“Yo, Ben, this is our stop man.”

The punch to his arm finally startled him enough to get him to jump. Miles eyed him suspiciously at that.

“You really into Candy Crush or something there?”

“I, uh, no,” he coughed slightly, following him off of the train, pocketing his mobile device, “Just looking up something.”

“Heh, checking out the game scores or something so you can get back with Flash,” the younger teased.

“I, what?” his voice cracked a little at that.

“Dude, it’s alright. People fight all the time when they live together, and they eventually make up.”

The two were finishing the climb up from the metro stop now, headed towards downtown to the Walgreen’s where Cho had sent the present they were picking up to be printed and framed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ben mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets, “We didn’t have a fight.”

“They why you guys been avoiding each other?”

Since the last incident Ben had been avoiding the blonde whenever he could, which was a bit of a feat at times considering they lived in the same house and Flash was still wheelchair bound after all. It usually meant Ben taking on more patrols and logging more time at the Academy, which didn’t help with his sleeping problems.

“We live in the same house, remember. It’s not hard to see you guys had a breakup.”

Ben scowled at that, “We weren’t-aren’t anything.”

“You know what I mean,” Miles rolled his eyes, “Friendships have breakups too, it’s ok.”

He didn’t look at him, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath as they walked.

“Look, I didn’t mean anything by that. If you’re really-”

“Just stop Miles,” he bit that out sharply, “Don’t go there, just stop. You don’t know anything.”

He scowled at that. “Well excuse me for trying to help a friend out by, you know, being there for them. Cause you guys are both my friends, my family. So sorry for wanting to help.”

Ben sighed a little, pausing, “Miles, wait.”

“Nope, too late, you already told me to shut up. So I’m shutting up,” he did not stop.

“Miles,” his voice took on the hard and firm tone like May’s did when she was giving you an order you would comply with without any argument.

He stopped and turned back, seeing his companion cross the distance between them now. 

“Look, I…I just don’t…family is…this is all new to me,” he finally admitted, “I don’t exactly know what I’m doing. Family, friends, all of this. I don’t…”

Miles gently pat his arm, “Dude, it’s ok. Families are messy, no one’s perfect. But that doesn’t mean you get to bite the head off the guy who’s just trying to help, ok?”

“I…yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s ok, I forgive you,” they started walking again, “So you and Flash aren’t a thing?”

He shot him a warning look for that.

“Dude, relax, it’d be ok if you were. Didn’t think he went that way, but I guess-”

“Just stop there Miles please,” he was less sharp about it this time, but it was still clearly evidenced that this was a topic that he really didn’t want to talk about with him, “We are not any sort of “thing”, other than teammates.”

“Yeah, I guess dating a teammate would be sort of against the rules.”

Ben was going to respond back, denying again any sort of “dating” allegations, but then he noticed that that was basically the younger boy’s way of ending the topic, so he just went with it. It was only another block to the store, which was spent pretty much in silence. Inside they found their way to the photo counter, but their order wasn’t done yet.

“Great, so now what do we do?” Miles lamented, taking up one of the seats at the photo kiosk.

Ben shrugged a little, “Saw a bakery on the way here, might as well go get a cake.”

“I thought Pete was getting the cake?”

“Yeah, and you know how reliable he is.”

Miles snorted, “Yeah that’s true, he’d probably loose it fighting Batroc or something on his way home.”

“Exactly. So why don’t you go get something that looks good, and I’ll just wait here for this.”

He was already getting off the stool, accepting the money the other was giving him to go run the errand, “But what if Pete does come through and we end up with two cakes?”

Ben cocked an eyebrow at that, “How would that be a bad thing?”

Miles grinned, “Touché. I’ll be back in a few then,” and with that he was off, leaving the store.

Alone now with just the handful of employees and customers in the store, Ben started to just meander down the various aisles boredly. One employee shot him a dirty look, as if it was a slight against all humanity that he would be waiting bored in this store of all stores. He was about to bypass the Family Planning section when he hesitated; he was late after all. But he couldn’t really be…could he? 

He picked up the first box he could, and made an immediate beeline for the cashier, who he was thankful was not the one that had given him the dirty look; in fact she didn’t even give him a second look. Once paid, he took it right back to the store’s bathroom. He locked the door immediately before he actually paused to reflect on what he was really doing. Was he, Ben Reilly, Scarlet Spider, really about to take a pregnancy test in a Walgreen’s bathroom?

It…it made sense all things considered. He was late, both for his heat and period. He had had sex during his last heat. He had been sick and nutrient deficient…but he had been under stress. It was ridiculous, but plausible. And this was the easiest and quickest way to find out…

The instructions were simple enough to follow, so even though he felt ridiculous doing so, he did it and then it became a waiting game. A 10 minute timer was set on his phone as he stood by the sink counter, looking everywhere but at the plastic stick sitting on the counter beside him. He tried to think about anything other than the outcome and what it could and would mean if it…

He couldn’t have a baby! He wasn’t even 17 yet, let alone the fact that he was a guy…with extra functioning parts… But he was going to be part of Ock’s new world order; he was Ock’s weapon, he couldn’t…what would the Doctor do about this? Termination would be the best option he could hope for, but knowing now that this was possible, would the Doctor try to breed him? He couldn’t be pregnant and still function as a hero and spy; his whole cover would be blown in so many ways. And how he’d gotten pregnant would come out; his heat, his additional anatomy, what he’d done to Flash…

A better idea hit him then; maybe he had been pregnant, but wasn’t anymore. He had had two major falls, thanks to his webbing giving out. Not to mention the regular hits he took on patrol and during training. You weren’t supposed to cause pregnant women to fall down stairs because it could kill the baby, so all of that had to have been far worse than a million stair falls. Maybe he’d already lost it…if there was even an “it” to lose…That struck him hard for a moment, but he shook it off; there wasn’t a way to tell that anyways, at least not without telling anyone. This test would just prove if he had the right hormones in his system, meaning he was or was _recently_ pregnant, not a definitive “you are currently pregnant”. A miscarriage at any point in time would probably reset his cycle, so maybe he wasn’t late for that new cycle…

He jumped as his phone rang, not the alarm but the actual ringer. He accepted the call quickly to make it be quiet, not having bothered to see who it was,

“Yeah, what do you want?”

_“I’m heading back to the house now, where are you and Miles?”_

It was Cho, just what he needed right now.

“I’m waiting on the gift, the kid went to get a cake.”

_“I was under the impression that Peter was getting the cake.”_

“You trust him to remember that?”

_“Ok, I give you that. When will you two be arriving?”_

He looked down at the plastic wand, his heart heavy and his tongue suddenly becoming too thick to form proper words.

_“Ben? Are you still there?”_

“I, yeah,” he coughed a little, trying to clear his throat, “I don’t know, an hour if traffic is good. We’re doing this civilian styled.”

 _“So I have to wait with the jock for an hour while keeping May distracted,”_ he groaned on his end.

“You’ll figure something out.”

_“And whatever possessed you to think that going into the city in a mundane way would be the most proficient?”_

It had been because he didn’t trust his webbing, and he’d been caught before he could raid Peter’s stash of web fluid at the house.

“We were coming in to get a birthday present, and everyone seeing multiple spiders coming and going from one house in suburbia will eventually draw attention enough for someone to find us out.”

 _“You have a point,”_ the defeat in his voice was minor, but it was still there _“Just don’t get distracted and hurry back. There’s only so much Shoots and Ladders I can handle.”_

“Don’t worry Cho, we’ll get there when we get there.”

And that was the end of the conversation. He glanced back at the counter; still wasn’t done yet. He sigh-groaned as he ran his hand over his face; the waiting was what was going to kill him at this point. His phone rang again, no doubt Cho demanding an exact ETA or something. He answered without looking at it, hand still covering his eyes,

“What now Cho?”

He was mostly answered with static, making him realize immediately who it was before the crackly voice came through,

_“Take another guess Red.”_

It was Electro. If Ock was having him scramble his cell single for direct contact, that could only mean one thing…

“Today?”

_“In a few hours. Ock says to remember to keep the Spider on the island.”_

“Understood.”

Then the line went dead. He starred at the dark screen blankly, letting that all sink in. Today was the day they, the Sinister Seven, were going to take down the Triskellion and S.H.I.E.L.D. once and for all. Today…of all days, it had to be today. They were distracted by the party sure, it made sense. He was hesitating now; this was what they had been working for all these months, this was the end goal and it was in sight. They were about to win. But the fact that he might be pregnant, that could change a lot of things…

There was a loud knock at the door, and out of panicked reflex he scrambled to hide the pregnancy test in his sweatshirt pocket, despite knowing the door was locked.

“Ben?! You in there buddy??” it was Miles, “Did you get sick or something??”

“I, uh, yeah,” he called back, crossing the distance of the room to flush the nearest toilet to add sound effects, “Be out in a moment!”

After another convincing flush and running some water, he finally left the bathroom, finding his companion standing nearby waiting, looking at an assortment of toothbrushes for some reason. He took a breath, then headed to his side. Miles put back the Colgate he was looking at to turn his attentions to him.

“Dude, you ok?”

“Yeah, I just, you know.”

Miles shook his head, “Ok, who cares what Pete says, if the Joey Q’s makes you sick, you don’t have to eat it.”

“I thought a taco would be different,” he lied, “Find a backup cake?”

“Yup,” he held up a shopping bag with something clearly square box shaped in it, “Also got the lady at the photo lab to wrap the present, you just gotta go pay for it because you have the money.”

“Ah, right, should do that.”

They headed back towards the front of the store, to the photo lab.

“Cho called me; he’s headed back to the house.”

“So Pete’s gonna be late like usual. Gotchya.”

“Basically,” as he was paying his phone alarm went off; he tried to turn it off quickly.

“What’s that about?”

“Nothing,” he accepted the now wrapped present, “Let’s head back before Cho and Flash eat each other alive.”


	2. Part 2

“You do realize that Battleship isn’t usually viewed as that mentally taxing a game,” Cho huffed, chin in hand as he was slumped forward in his seat, boredly starring at his opponent over the top of the plastic game board.

Flash had been staring at his side of the board for a good 7 minutes, chin in hand as he was deep in thought trying to decipher where to plot his next move based on the hits and misses he’d already accumulated. The genius had regretted agreeing to this poor battle of wits 5 minutes into the game, and they had been playing for over 30 now.

“I understand that there are 30.09 billion different placement arrangements, but considering the hits you’ve made, the number’s been greatly reduced, so your chances of making at least one hit have risen quite a bit…”

“Shhh. You can’t distract me with all your science talk. I got skills in this.”

“It’s randomly picking a starting coordinate, then going through the process of elimination to decipher the placement of the other pieces so you…”

“Blah, blah, blah, that’s all I’m hearing. I got it. B7.”

Cho sighed, “Miss.”

“Dang it,” he put the white peg on the board.

“C9.”

“You sunk another,” he pouted, putting the red on his little plastic ship, “How are you so good at this?”

“Just lucky I guess,” he checked his watch again, “You know this isn’t really buying the others time by distracting May.”

“She’s got next. B8.”

“Still a miss just like last time.”

“Oh right, I forgot to mark that one.”

Luckily the front door opened and their missing friends came in with package and shopping bag in hand.

“Finally,” Cho stood up fast, more than happy to have an excuse to ditch out on this mind numbing game, “Where have you two been?”

“We missed the bus and had to wait for the next one,” Miles peeked around Flash’s shoulder to see what they were in the middle of, “Good game?”

Flash shrugged in response to that.

“Did you guys get it?”

“Relax Cho, we got it,” Ben soothed, handing him the wrapped package, “Where’s May, you two were supposed to be watching her.”

“Last we knew she was in the shower,” the blonde started to pack up the game, because they were obviously done with it; it also gave him an excuse to keep his focus away from Ben.

“Then I guess I can go take care of this then,” and he headed for the kitchen.

“What was that?” Cho asked as he slipped the gift into a hiding spot.

“Extra cake,” Miles explained.

“I thought Pete was getting the cake?” Flash handed the now closed up game to the younger boy to put away for him since he was standing in the way.

He took it without a fight, “Yeah, but Ben figured Pete would be late or forget.”

“Right, he did mention that,” Cho returned to his seat, then was forced to move over as Miles flopped down next to him on the couch.

“Hm, yeah, Ben just thinks of everything,” Flash mumbled, looking away with his chin resting in his palm.

Cho raised an eyebrow at that, looking over to see if Miles had any clue to what that was about. He just shook his head, not wanting to get into it.

Meanwhile, Ben made it into the kitchen, and easily found a place to store the cake for the hour or two it’d be before the “party” officially started. He spared a glance in on his friends in the living room, leaning against the doorframe. The party would be in an hour or two sure, but how long after would the plan go into motion? How much more time would he have with his friends, his family, before he would have to…

Flash shifted in his seat, intending to engage in the discussion the other two had started. When he did, he caught Ben watching them. Their eyes met for a moment before Ben turned away, back into the kitchen.

He couldn’t think that way, they were the enemy; they had always been the enemy. He didn’t do _friends_ , he didn’t do _family_ , he didn’t do _love_ … 

As he pressed against a counter, needing to touch something to help ground his thoughts, he felt something hard and slim pressed against his hip. A hand slid into his sweatshirt pocket, finding the forgotten plastic wand. Panic lit through his thoughts for a moment, followed by a quick paranoid look back over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching him. Still, even finding no one, it was far too exposed to look at it here. 

He headed to his designated bed room, locking the door once inside. Then he sat, one hand still buried in his pocket, hanging onto the stick like it was a life line. He realized that this wasn’t a fool proof answer, heck it was downright crazy to begin with. But the facts were lining up, so even if there was but the slimmest of chances…yet he was still hesitant because what if. 

What if it was true? What would he do then; what could he do then? What would it mean for him? For Flash…

What if it wasn’t? Was it still possible though? Would he ever want it to be?

Waiting around and worrying wouldn’t find any of those answers, only the plastic stick in his pocket could. No matter the outcome, he’d figure this out, on his own, like he always did. He could do this, he had to do this. With a hard breath he pulled out the pregnancy test, and looked to find…

A plus sign. It was positive. He was pregnant. 

Or he was at least recently; there was still a chance that the fall or the training or the fighting had hurt him badly enough to make him loose it, and his body hadn’t fully adjusted to that fact yet. But still, he was pregnant…he was a parent now…Suddenly the world seemed a thousand times worse in a thousand different ways. What was he going to do?

The knock at the door sounded like a gunshot in his ear, and garnered about the same level of reaction. He jumped, throwing the stick as far from him as he could to get it out of view; his instincts kicked in, taking up a readied stance to fight whatever was coming into this threat range now.

“Ben, you ok in there?”

It was only May, safe, sweet, innocent, and good hearted May. He relaxed, but was still tense. He waited for her to stop trying the locked knob before he unlocked the door to peek out at her.

“Yeah?”

“Are you feeling ok? The others said you went off, and the door was locked, so I was a bit worried.”

“I’m fine May,” he ducked as she tried to feel his forehead, “Just had to…have a moment alone.”

“Are you sure? If you need to rest, I’m sure we can keep it down. We were just about to start a game of charades.”

“No, no, its fine, I’m fine,” he waved it off as he slipped out, closing the door as he did so, “Don’t worry about it.”

“You know you don’t have to put on a brave face for me dear. If you’re not feeling well, you don’t have to entertain me, really.”

He smirked, “And miss out on birthday shenanigans, right. Octobots couldn’t keep me away.”

“If you’re sure,” she touched his cheek, managing to get a read on his temperature this time because he let her, “Well, you do feel normal.”

“I’m fine,” he pat her hand then took it off, “So charades huh?”

“Mmhmm,” she slipped her arm through his now, dead set on not letting him get away as she lead him back to the living room where the others were waiting on them, “You boys are about to learn why I’m the record holder in this house.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second,” he humored her, letting her pull him.

Time was running out for him. He knew what was coming. He knew he couldn’t waste time worrying about the possibility that he really was…right now, he had to stay focused about what was going to happen in a few hours, the plan, the mission. He had to act like nothing was wrong, that nothing was out of the ordinary. He couldn’t raise suspicions. So as always, as he was so good at doing, Ben, Scarlet Spider, compartmentalized his feelings to deal with at a later time…maybe.


	3. Part 3

Everything was going according to plan to the letter. It was almost too easy to convince Peter to move against his instincts and stay to defend the Triskellion; almost because a small part of him was screaming at him to get out of there too, but he still had a role to play, a the role he was made for. Revealing Peter’s biggest secret to Ock, it was a matter of survival at this point he told himself. 

Then came the matter of the key. Logic dictated that sending Scarlet Spider to retrieve it was best because he had seen it, knew what it was, where it was, and still had access to the area unhindered. His heart though told Ben he had to be the one to retrieve it because it would keep May and Flash out of the cross-hairs of this fight just a bit longer. But as Ock and Spiderman arrived, he couldn’t afford to go easy with them, any of them, anymore; this was a matter of survival, his survival.

So now atop the summoned floating island, he looked down at the house he had once called home…his only real home he could remember.

“Behold what we have brought,” Ock was monologing as he admired his handiwork, “Is it not beautiful?” he looked to Scarlet Spider standing beside him now, “It is just as I said it would be. With you by my side, Otto Octavius shall rule all.”

He remained silent, just watching as the robotic tentacles crashed into the various buildings in the neighborhood. He knew this is what he was made for, what the plan was all along. But there was a sharp ache in his chest that he tried to fight away, and knew his voice would betray if he spoke up. The Doctor didn’t think twice about his creation’s silence, taking it as the awed kind, marveling in his greatness as every good lap dog should of his master. 

“Ah, the Parker home, how could we forget them,” the villain grinned as he commanded the next strike to its target.

The spider reacted without thinking; he tried to grab the Doctor, to stop him, forgetting that this was all done mostly through mental commands at this point.

“You can-”

“What do you think you’re doing!” Ock snapped.

That was his home…Flash was still in there…he couldn’t…

The tentacle struck and Scarlet pulled back, like the spurned dog he was.

“What are you thinking?? You cannot possibly feel for these worthless creatures can you?”

“I…” his voice shook a little, eyes widening as he saw massive amounts of the rubble move.

Ock saw it too and frowned, sending the tentacle to smash it again, “Do not forget who the enemy is here, nor to whom you belong Scarlet Spider.”

The tentacle pulled back, leaving only flattened rubble. Any small bit of hope that those in the wreckage had survived dwindled further in his heart. He shouldn’t be feeling this, he shouldn’t care. Pete-Spiderman was the enemy, had always been the enemy; this was always the way it was going to be. And Flash…Flash had hurt him in the worst way, he deserved this fate…he was the enemy too…

“There, it is done,” Ock huffed a little, giving his creation a sideways glance to await a reaction, but finding none chose to ignore the little outburst for the moment; he would deal with it later after all. But for now, he continued to gloat, “My greatest enemy destroyed by his pathetic responsibility to help others. Almost poetic.”

“Yes,” Scarlet looked down, trying to keep his breathing calm and steady; he knew his outburst would be dealt with later, fore the Doctor never forgot things like that.

That seemed to satisfy him for now, because he moved to enter the island control center now, beckoning his creation to follow. Scarlet chanced a last look down at the wreckage and for a moment thought he saw a flash of red and blue, but he didn’t linger to confirm it lest Ock noticed his hesitation and then noticed it too.

If Spiderman had survived, then maybe Flash…

He may still be the enemy, but he owed the kid a fighting chance.


	4. Part 4

He watched the pod jettison from the ship. They’d make it, he was sure of that; the Parkers were a strong breed. He ran to where the controls should be, having spent his months as a spy studying S.H.I.E.L.D. blueprints as well as stealing intel; thankfully the nanobots hadn’t changed the controls or there would have been no way for him to have done this. 

He started flipping switches and pressing buttons to give over manual control; it took a moment for the already damaged systems to recognize and load up the command. As he strapped into the seat, he rest a hand over his midsection, looking down as guilt panged at him louder than the warning signals over head.

“I’m sorry for this,” he breathed more than said.

The hand tore away to a side pocket as the system alerted him that it was ready; he took out the photo from the house and dropped it on the console in front of him as he finished dialing in the last of the commands he needed before taking the flight stick.

The bay was his goal. If he could bring the ship down there, the casualties would be fewer. Steering a sinking ship was no easy task, but he did his best to avoid the major buildings, trying to use the ship’s own momentum to beat out its decent. Closer and closer his goal was coming into view, but if he didn’t hurry then he’d strike the ground before he could hit the water.

“C’mon, you can do this,” he hissed through gritted teeth, trying to pull against the controls as if his strength would feed into the machine to aid the trillion tonned ship.

At last the water was all he had in view; sensors flashed up warning him of water damage that was accumulating fast, as well as dozens of other system failures. He let go of the controls, knowing that it was all up to gravity at this point. He looked to the photo, picking it up. It had been a nightmare trying to get the five of them to take it in a way that wouldn’t alert May to what they were planning, adding in the fact that he and Flash were having issues at the time too…what did he regret more at this point; the time he wasted with his friends, his family, or the time he was losing? Even in the picture, he was the outsider, putting distance and barrier between himself and what he wanted, who he wanted…

“Ben!”

He looked up as a direct message opened up on the screen before him; it was Spiderman and the others, seemingly in the Spiderjet. A quick look at the side of the screen proved that sensors had picked up an approaching ship. The fools, did they really think they could save him; that he deserved to be saved after everything he’d done?

“We’re coming for you! Get topside!”

“You know it’s too late for that Peter,” he kept his voice steady, strong; this is how it should be, “Tell me, is this what he would do?”

“Who?”

“The other Ben, the one I’m named after.”

“Yeah,” there was no hesitation in Peter’s voice, just a deeply seeded sadness, “I guess it is. He’d give anything to save people.”

And that was all the closure he really needed. The ship was crumbling all around him, a death machine he had played a part in creating. And even if one selfless act couldn’t erase all of the pain he’d caused, all of the wrongs he’d committed, maybe, just maybe it would be enough to let him forgive himself.

“Peter…Ock was wrong. Compassion isn’t your greatest weakness; it’s your greatest strength. Keep being the hero,” _that I wasn’t_ was left out; instead he smirked, he couldn’t let them see him go out as a sap, “Punk.”

And he terminated the video feed. He sat back in his seat, watching as errors and warnings kept flashing along the screen. Damages were over 62% now, systems were failing left and right, water was over taking decks. Estimation to core implosion was less than 5 minutes. It really was too late for him to be saved…for either of them.

He picked back up the photo in one hand, the other resting over his middle again.

“We would’ve made lousy parents, he probably wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me anyways,” he rest his head back, eyes closed, the hand and photo resting above the other now, “It really is better this way, you deserve so much better than me.”

The last thing he heard then was a massive explosion coming from behind. The pressure must have over taxed the hull; his compartment was compromised. Death would be swift before the core’s final explosion after all.

Then there was water, so much water. He was strapped to the chair still, so he fought against his instincts to try to tear away from the water, to find air. His spidersense screamed at him to save himself, but he wouldn’t, he knew this was hopeless. It was his time to die, the world didn’t need him.

And then came the darkness and coldness.

Until it wasn’t there anymore.

There was a hard, repeating pressure on his chest, then the feel of…lips against his??

He sat up and coughed up water as air begged to be pulled back into his lungs, as life demanded to return to his being. Other senses began to fill in the rest of the details; he could hear the lapping water against the beach, the sound of the pier over head, sand underneath him. And he sensed the body beside him before he could see them; in fact it was taking his sight sometime to return.

“Easy there wannabe, I think you’re gonna live.”

“J-Jones?” he coughed up some more salt water, trying to ignore the burning sensation it caused his clearly raw throat.

“Here, lie back,” he felt her hands, gently trying to push him back down, placed on his shoulder and across his now sorely bruised chest.

He allowed himself to be guided, finding what he guessed was her wadded up sweatshirt as a pillow. Sand irritated odd spots on his body; obviously his suit had been torn up in the wreckage. But the wreckage…he should have died, how…

“Why am I alive?”

She quirked an eyebrow at that, sitting back on her heels. “That’s a funny way to say thanks.”

“No, I don’t mean,” he started coughing again, which made him sit up again. The action just made his whole body light up with pain.

“Easy there,” she pat his back, trying to help him dislodge the last of the water, “I was at the pier when I saw something go flying from your boat land close by, so I swam out and found you out cold near the bottom of the bay.”

Something go flying? But he hadn’t…the pilot ejector must have been automatically triggered, but because of the Hydra modifications it didn’t fully protect him. That made sense, sort of; his head was hurting too much to really think about it at the moment. Right now he was, surprisingly alive, in a big part thanks to this girl…

“Thank you,” his coughing fit finally subsided and he looked to her, his eyes finally finding their focus again, “Jessica Jones.”

“See, that’s a better thanks,” she smirked, “So, should I just get lost so you can call in your big buddies for a rescue. I’m not looking for any sort of thank you from those types.”

“No,” he looked away now, looked down at his hands, at himself.

“No? Dude, you’re pretty banged up, and I’m sure they’re gonna want to find you alive.”

“I’d rather they didn’t.”

“I…” her first instinct was to dissect that response, but then she paused; she’d seen this type of look on kids before. 

She’d heard stories about S.H.I.E.L.D. and what it could do with their super powered assets; maybe they weren’t unfounded like some said? But the powers aside, she knew what it was like to need some time away from…certain people. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to prod for a story either; poking a fresh wound wouldn’t help either of them. And she couldn’t just leave him in this state; the guy needed a hospital, or at least a run to a drug store. And pants.

“You want a place to crash for a while?”

He looked back up at her, eyebrow raised in confusion. “Seriously?”

She shrugged a bit, “Well if you’re going to fake your death, guess that’s the same as being a runaway, and I happen to have a specialty in that. So, you wanna stay under the pier in a torn up fake Spiderman costume, or you wanna come back to my place for a couple dozen bandaids and some real pants?”

“I’m not Spiderman.”

“I know that,” she started to get up, dusting the sand off her pants the best she could before grabbing up her sweatshirt to shake it free too, “Scarlet Spider was it?” she offered him a hand up now.

“No,” he took it and only grimaced slightly from the aches and pains caused by standing now, even with her aid, “That’s not my name anymore.”

“Well then, unless you want to be called “wannabe” for the rest of your life, what is it then?”

“It’s Ben, Ben Reilly.”

“Well Reilly,” she slung her sweatshirt over his shoulders to help obscure the torn suit somewhat, “Welcome to the rest of your life.”


End file.
